She is Love
by ThatClutzsarahh
Summary: He's been beaten down, kicked around and she takes it all for him.


**The missing moments of the life of Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott**

The war had done some awful things to that pretty girl. She was a pretty blonde girl with beautiful silk locks that curled perfectly when she was in school they now were pulled back from her face in a high ponytail to ezcenutate her perfect bone structure. Her skin, that once held a glow so vibrant, now was matte and paling as she stood under the streetlight in Hogsmeade. Her sapphire eyes scanned the streets before she turns her head to you. A scar runs down the left side of her face, a thick pale scar directly down through her eye as her eyes meet yours. You smile because that scar is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. That scar on that face is the most beautiful thing you've ever set eyes on.

And so you walk up to her, and a smile stretches across her face, her white teeth glittering at you as you meet her in the light. Her eyes hold a light, a light only for you as you brush away a stray strand of hair from her face. There are light puffs of breath as you both breathe, the air bitter cold around you, but you don't care.

It's been too long since you've seen her. Business has kept you and her apart, your Quidditch life and traveling keeping you from the pretty girl. Time after time you think that she'll leave you or that you'll leave her, but this streetlight, this street corner, right here is where you meet her every time you come home. Carefully you trace your fingers over her face, and gently over that beautiful scar. There was something you had to say tonight, but you didn't know if you could.

"Theodore," she starts, but you hold up a finger to her lips to silence her. She looks at you in confusion and you smirk at her, unable to do anything else because your nerves couldn't take anything more.

She smells like peppermint. She always smells like peppermint. A thousand times you want to ask her if she really smells like this, or if its' her shampoo, but you never do. You never ask her why she smells so intoxicating, the scent invading your senses when your together, and now, suddenly when you're apart, it invade your dreams and you want nothing more than to run and smell her beautiful hair and her lovely skin, and to trace the scars on her face, her back, her neck. You dream of her and that scares you.

Love was never a word she or you could say. Love wasn't a word that you knew, because you never knew what it meant. She was a strong girl with a quiet calm disipition since the war took her beauty from her. She told him, sat him down and told you that she couldn't love anyone-that she is not cut out for love. You told her that love wasn't an emotion you knew, so she hadn't needed to worry. But lately, she's taken over your every thought, all the time and you can't take it. Every night you think of how she bites her lip when she thinks, how she hums to herself in the kitchen and how her voice sounds so beautiful when she sings in the shower. You love her modesty, covering every inch of her skin to everyone else, only ever showing anything to you. And you love the feeling that you're the only one who's seen her skin, who's touched it.

But you're scared, because you don't know what happening. It's like your mind no longer thinks for itself, and when you have the chance you wander to thoughts of her. You wander to the way she runs around the flat, gracefully avoiding your grasp as she waves your shirt high above her head, or the way she twirls around on the dance floor when you and her go out on the town and the way she smiles when she's happy, when she sees her sister and your best mate together. You love to see her smile when she holds little Scorpious in her arms, with a look in her eyes that you want to see all the time, with a glow on her face that you want to see when she looks at you, like she's doing right now.

But the moment when you lost your mind to her was not when she ran around the flat or when she was with her sister, but when she said she thought she was falling in love. She has no idea that you overheard that and to this day she doesn't, but when you heard the way she said you're name, like she did right now, the she did then, you realize that there was no one else in the world who could hold your heart in their hands quite like her, quite like her delicate little fingers and her nimble hands.

Gently, you hold her face in your hands. You've spent all day trying to figure out how to say three little words. You've spent hours trying to say the small words, the way to express yourself to her. You don't know what's holding you back. Carefully you search her eyes, you search those beautifully deep sapphire eyes for a sign that she doesn't completely love you. You are looking for doubt her beautiful face, but you can't find even a hairline fracture of it.

"Theodore," she says again and you love the way your name comes from her lips. The sound drives you mad it drives you insane as you listen. Every time she says it, your body shivers, you want to hear it said louder, you want to hear her scream your name because she loves you. You and want to scream hers back. But this is not the time, nor the place for such lustful thoughts.

"There's something I need to say," you speak, looking at her. She smiles patiently, and you swear you could fall into that smile and stay there for forever. Her eyes twinkle with a watery glance as your voice trembles.

"I don't know," you whisper, "Where we went wrong."

Her face flashes in confusion, but before she can speak, you continue, "When we got together, you told me, you say that we couldn't l…love each other. But Daphne," you run a hand through your hair, "I don't know what's happened with us. I can't explain it anymore, I can't reason myself with it. I think I've gotten myself in to deep. I don't know, I mean I don't know what it feels like, and Merlin I'm terrified Daphne, look at me my hands they're shaking, shaking for you! I don't know what's happening anymore. I tried, I really did, but Daphne-"

"Yes, Theodore?"

"I think, I think, I've fallen…in love with you."

And the she kisses you, a gentle caring and loving kiss and you wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her close. Her hands grip at your hair and you rest your forehead against hers as she pulls away from the kiss, only to whisper.

"I know Theodore, I know."


End file.
